So last night I watched Vivre Sa Vie. Pretty good. So far, anyway -- I got tired and thought I would finish it tonight, which I never do.
But yeah. Lots of direct confrontation of the viewer, lots of intentional dropout of sound -- perfect Nouvelle Vague. And cars and cigarettes and women I all like very very much. Anna Karina is better here even than in that movie where she was wearing that coquettish little blue bow in her hair, with the bike riding around the apartment, and why can't I remember the name of that? Anyway.
Because you're in a FRENCH MOVIE. All they do is TALK. Just like in REAL LIFE. Talk talk talk talk talk. Which is why I'm a francophile.
When they're not having an affair, and even then.